


the other me and the other you

by taronfirth



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Baker!Harry, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Curses, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Farmboy!Eggsy, Groundhog Day, M/M, Magical Realism, Matchmakers, Memory Loss, Parallel Universes, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmarks, They are married, and happy and that's what i need, but like a little bit?, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taronfirth/pseuds/taronfirth
Summary: "Harry," asked Eggsy one evening, when Harry was reading on their sofa and he was resting his head on Harry's lap, JB asleep on his chest."Yes, Eggsy?""Do you think if the theory of parallel universes was true, we'd still end up together?"Harry bookmarked the page and closed the book, his fingers found Eggsy's hair and his mouth Eggsy's forehead.He said, "I don't think it exists, my dear. A version of me that is not in love with a version of you."And that was that.





	1. you are loved more than you know

**Author's Note:**

> Title of this chapter is from the song Light by Sleeping At Last.

"Harry," asked Eggsy one evening, when Harry was reading on their sofa and he was resting his head on Harry's lap, JB asleep on his chest. 

"Yes, Eggsy?" 

"Do you think if the theory of parallel universes was true, we'd still end up together?" 

Harry bookmarked the page and closed the book, his fingers found Eggsy's hair and his mouth Eggsy's forehead. 

He said, "I don't think it exists, my dear. A version of me that is not in love with a version of you." 

Eggsy noticed how his husband answered his question without actually answer it. But it was fine. 

There were worse fates than not remembering. 

And that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a plot, have faith in me.
> 
> Find me on tumblr as darcyfirth for more fluff and angst. Or if you want to see how often I can think of Hartwin.


	2. may these words be the first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aren’t you just Santa’s Little Helper?” 
> 
> “Are you asking or is it just rhetorical?”
> 
> \- 
> 
> In this universe, they met in a mall.

“Aren’t you just Santa’s Little Helper?” Came a confused voice in front of him.

Harry looked up from his phone screen and blinked innocently, twice. “Are you asking or is it just rhetorical?” He said mildly while leaning back on his chair a little.

The man who just interrupted his break, dressed in full Adidas gear whose hands were occupied with a small lady and several shopping bags, raised his left eyebrow, “I mean, you are supposed to be his elf, aren’t you?”

Harry gestured at himself, “I’m dressed in green and have a funny hat on, so I assume that I am one.”

“Then why are you sitting on his chair? And where the hell is Santa?” he tried to whisper the second question, afraid to alert his sister? Daughter? Of Santa’s disappearance.

“It’s lunch break,“ Harry said as he took a small sip out of his coke, “George went to grab a Starbucks and he asked me to stand in.” He did make sure to lower his voice conspiratorially at Santa’s real name.

“Will he be back soon? My sister was, is looking forward to meeting Santa today. It’s the only day I’m free to take her here. And Dean’s going to be home in an hour so we have to hurry.” His eyes and voice said panic and agitated but his body language remained calm, perhaps to not alarm his sister, Harry noted.

Putting his phone in his trousers pocket, he smiled, “What’s your name?”

“Eggsy. No,” he amended, “I mean Gary. Gary Unwin.”

“Well, Gary Unwin. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Daisy. Isn’t it, love?” Eggsy-I-mean-Gary smiled down at his sister, who nodded obediently while sucking her own thumb.

“Miss Daisy,” Harry beckoned them both closer, “Let me tell you a little secret, alright?”

She nodded again, but her mouth was free of thumb now.

“Santa’s checking on the other elves’ toy-making progress. He told me to sit here and wait for you, miss Daisy, so that you can tell me what you want for Christmas. And I’ll apprise him later.” He could hear Merlin’s snicker in his ears, he hoped the bastard was choking on his tea instead. “Don’t worry, he’ll meet you later when he delivers your presents.”

Daisy, bless her heart, did not make a fuss and happily climbed onto the red throne, with the help of her brother, and whispered into Harry’s pointy ears, “Can Santa make Eggsy happy? That’s my only wish this year.”

Fighting back a look of surprise, Harry smiled at her, “Yes. Yes, he certainly can. However,” he pulled out a stuffed toy from his satchel, a pug, and placed it on her lap, “since you’re on top of the nice list, Santa’s asked me to give you this as well.”

Daisy’s eyes sparkled as she turned to find her brother’s approval, who at this moment looked at them with a fond look that warmed his impossibly brown-blue-green eyes. He gave her his assent and she near-squealed with happiness, “Thank you,” she patted Harry’s arm, “you are a very tall but kind elf. I like you a lot. Eggsy likes you, too.”

“Does he?” Harry gave her an amused look.

“Yes! He thinks you’re quite handsome for your age.”

Harry chuckled, well, okay then. “That’s because he’s nice like you. I think he’s good-looking for his age as well.”

They giggled together, not looking at the now flustered Gary Unwin who very much would like a sizeable, depthless hole to plunge himself in. Daisy was too smart for her own good.

Gary cleared his throat, “Daisy, it’s time to go now. We gotta be back to help mum, can’t make her wait, can we?”

“Yes, Eggsy.”

Before they left, Gary extended his hand, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name and you don’t have a name tag on, you are?”

“Harry,” he said as he subtly-unsubtly pressed his white business card in Gary’s palm. Gary’s blush was pretty and Harry’d love to be the one who gets to see it everyday if possible.

They said their goodbyes and the brother and sister pair turned to leave. It was perfect timing really, because that was when Merlin’s program finished hacking into George’s laptop, a terrorist who apparently went undercover as a mall Santa.

 

 

Eggsy was ten steps away from Harry when he took out the card and read it once. Twice. He rubbed his eyes a bit and muttered, “But why the fuck is a tailor on Saville Row dressed as an elf?”

He turned back to where the red chair was and found no one sitting there. The ridiculous man in the ridiculous outfit and his posh coke was gone, vanished, as if nothing had happened there just minutes ago.

“Oh god, why do I have to fall for the weird ones.” It’d have been a real complaint if Eggsy hadn’t grinned so wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My prompt fill for the line: “Aren’t you just Santa’s Little Helper?” 
> 
> The request that started it all. Happy holidays guys. 
> 
> Find me at darcyfirth on tumblr :D


	3. something so magic about you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What kind of name is Eggsy?”
> 
> "What kind of person wears cosplay with his suit?" 
> 
> \- 
> 
> In this world, I gave you three wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of chapter is from the song From Eden by Hozier.

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” Harry grumbled into his scarf which he proceeded to wind tighter around his neck.

Merlin couldn’t comprehend why the man still kept it; the tatty old thing had been with Harry for more than sixty years, it was hardly something of monetary value if one took a look of Harry’s branded closet.

“Because the last guy who did it was sentenced to Hell,” Merlin’s index finger indicated the ground. It got a laugh out of Harry whose morbid sense of humour betrayed his entire identity. 

“Yeah, I bet it’s toasty down there. They never have to pay for electricity bills during winter, do they?” Harry said as he pulled out a pair of leather gloves, last year’s birthday gift from  _Him_. “I’m serious, Merlin. That was the third group I encountered this morning, they travel in packs and wear matching ugly sweaters that were probably designed to ruin my delicate eyeballs. And they sang the chorus all wrong. All of them.” 

This is a tradition,  _their_  tradition, every Christmas, without fail, Harry would bemoan about the mental obstacles he had to overcome whilst Merlin would be multi-tasking his way through their checklist. Overpopulation had made their work exponentially harder, but they had fun nonetheless. Harry always enjoyed the surprised look he got when people realised he was practically transparent. 

“Tough luck, old man. You were the one who chose field work, I recall somebody belittling sitting around at the desk all day typing away is dull and senseless and would make even cherubs obese.” 

“You have astoundingly good memory for someone over a hundred year old.” It wouldn’t be Harry if a compliment wasn’t wrapped in a bow of sarcasm. 

“Next month is your two hundred and sixty-eighth birthday, isn’t it? I almost forgot.” He typed a line of command onto their line of transmission, it appeared instantly on Harry’s watch. “We were thinking of chipping in and paying for your nursing home.” 

“Client number 3520: Lee Unwin.  _I wish my wife and Eggsy would be able to live on without me. They deserve everything I failed to give them._ ” Harry read aloud, he was safely tucked in a table in a corner of a coffee shop now, having ordered his Christmas Tree Frappuccino at the counter. “Is Eggsy the man’s pet? What kind of name is Eggsy?” 

“I think-,” Merlin’s reply was cut off by a voice in front of Harry, “Did you need anything, sir?” 

Harry very nearly startled, he rarely did but it was beautiful to see according to Merlin, when he discreetly turned off his watch and looked up, “Pardon?” 

“You said my name, Eggsy. I’m Eggsy,” the man pointed at his chest where Harry could clearly see the five-letter word printed on a name tag, “and here is the [Christmas Tree Peppermint Dark Mocha](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.starbucks.com.au%2Fmenu%2F95%2Fchristmas-tree-peppermint-dark-mocha&t=YmM1YjQxOGExYjYxMzM0OWY2MGNkNWZmYTI0Yjg1ZjBmNDM0ZDM4OSx1TTJoQ3JFUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AkGPhMjRoZAOTbkstqOkLTg&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdarcyfirth.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F168504207442%2F5-hartwin-also-that-could-totally-be-a&m=1) that you ordered, mister, erm, Harold?”   

At Harry’s prolonged silence, the young barista said, “I don’t mean to pry, sir, but could you try and keep your cosplay wings in check? They are rather large and some of our customers could have feather allergy.” He leaned down and lowered his voice, “Also I think your light control isn’t working, the glow is quite fierce compared to before, you know, when you ordered at our counter.” 

It took three seconds for Harry to collect his errant thoughts, he nodded before slapping on his business smile, his body language exuded charm and charisma as well as a flicker of cunning slyness, “Harry, call me Harry. Harold makes me feel so old.” 

 _But_ you _were the one who told the cashier that_ went unsaid. 

Eggsy smiled, “Harry.” The name sounded foreign to his lips. 

“Pleased to meet you, Eggsy. Now, how do you feel about making three wishes so that I can quickly help you make them come true and return to my home up there.” He made a vague gesture at the ceiling. 

Christ, Roxy was wrong to tell him to flirt with this guy, he had on chicken feathers for God’s sake.

Harry tutted, “Ah, ah. You can’t use His name that freely, not this close to Christmas. And they are made of light and air and I’m pretty sure were also sprinkled with a bit of magical dust.” He waved his gloved hands as if to re-enact the sprinkling motion.

Eggsy was sure terrified and slightly turned on would best describe his current situation. 

“Oh and by the way, did you know angels could read human thoughts?”   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? I planned out the entire thing, especially the reveal, so it might get a bit angsty at first, but the ending is hopeful. 
> 
> There's also an epilogue.


	4. the stories that we're living in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the question was asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A normal (?) day in the lives of the spy husbands. Title from the song Bedtime Song by Mindy Gledhill. I changed it into plural form because this is about AUs.

One night, when the house was quiet as the owners had just returned from their trip overseas, something happened.

A bit battered and just a little out of breath, they opened the wooden door to their bedroom with matching grins and staggered in, one supporting the other. The last forty-eight hours was brilliant. Terrifying, yes, since Harry almost got shot in the kneecap but they had escaped unscathed, and that was all that mattered.

They stripped off their own suits and shoes in a near clinical manner, tended to the minor wounds and cuts, and bandaged themselves up. When Eggsy finally sank into his too-soft bed, he let out a long, satisfied sigh. Harry soon followed, abandoning putting on his pajama top due to sore arms. He rest his head on the crook of Eggsy's welcoming arm, the one with the good wrist.

“We're gonna feel that tomorrow,” said Eggsy.

“Yes,” smiled Harry.

“I wouldn't trade this life for the world though.”

“Are you sure? Most would say being on alert for 24/7 is too demanding a job.”

“No, silly. I meant this life with you. Us being spies is aces, but being partners with you on missions transcends everything else in my life.” Eggsy said, raising his free hand very carefully to brush a strand of hair out of Harry's eyes.

His husband squeezed his waist, the silence spoke too loud for Eggsy's admission of sentiment. Harry had not the privilege of hearing such words prior to Eggsy. He wouldn't mind the practice of doing it every day.

“What you said before, when I asked about multiple universes, do you mean it?” asked Eggsy, his tone too light to not be real.

“Why do you ask?” Harry closed his eyes, his breath soft and slow.

“You seem oddly confident of your response. And I adore you for it- don't laugh!”

“Can't help but.”

“However, you didn't answer it, not directly, about us ending up together. Like this.”

Harry didn't speak. It was rare for Harry Unwin-Hart to come up short when it came to witty remarks. Eggsy thought the man was already asleep when he said, “I'm going to tell you stories.”

“Stories? Plural?”

“Yes.”

“About?”

“Soulmates.”

“Who?”

“No one we know,” he said and buried his face in Eggsy's neck.

“But they are soulmates. As in people who were born to be together,” confirmed Eggsy.

Harry's hand on Eggsy's waist jerked lightly but the younger man chose to let it go. He was curious and his need for sleep suddenly forgotten.

“I suppose so, yes. Do you want to hear?”

“Well, it's half past midnight and we don't have anything we _can_ do without physically exerting ourselves,” he wiggled his hips to further imply what he meant by that, "so I reckon I'll give your stories a go.”

“As you wish,” said Harry. And he started to speak, as if from memory, the tales of strangers with predetermined fate, and how in all their lives, they kept finding each other.

There were no fixed genre, as there was a myriad of worlds. Sometimes they were ancient gods, immortals who never died, sometimes one was a prince and the other his bodyguard, or a farm boy and a local baker, other times they were just mere humans whose souls somehow connected in a sea of people.

After each story, Harry checked to see if Eggsy was still awake, and if so, would he like to hear another.

The answer was always yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll make sense, I think, once things are revealed. There's an obvious reference to The Princess Bride somewhere in here.


	5. our hearts just fell in tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have a tendency to surprise me," admitted Harry. 
> 
> "It's a mutual feeling then. Because I find myself constantly being surprised by you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter is from Takin' A Chance by Whitney Houston.

“Oi! That’s  _my_  hot chocolate.” Eggsy protested with all the indignation he could muster when Harry and his hand just appeared out of nowhere to snatch his piping hot mug of cocoa goodness. 

Harry stared levelly at him as he repeated for the third time that week, “Did you check?” 

Understanding the layered implications in Harry’s question, Eggsy pouted as he shook his head no. He neither checked nor saw when it was made but come on, what kind of assassin would poison hot chocolate? In the ever-expanding history of royal deaths, there was never a case of anyone choosing  _hot chocolate_  as something to poison. Tea, yes. Perhaps nasty chilled coffee. But never melted chocolate in hot milk and marshmallows. 

Eggsy bid the mug farewell as Harry handed it to Merlin, Eggsy’s personal assistant, for inspection. 

Ever since the day he took over as Eggsy’s chief bodyguard, Harry had been nothing but vigilant. Eggsy had never had an actual bodyguard who followed him everywhere before, so any level of vigilance would be brand new to him. He was, unfortunately, 8th in line to the throne thanks to an unexpected death that pumped up his position. He supposed it sucked but uncle Toby had it worse, bless his poor soul. 

The best and slightly alarming thing that came out of this was Harry Hart. 

Eggsy, who had been well-trained in self-defence and hand-to-hand combat ever since he was a wee little kid, had challenged the man to a match because he had, embarrassingly, said, “I’d rather have my bodyguard not faint after a few friendly punches, thanks ever so.” 

Needless to say, fifteen exhilarating minutes later, pinned down breathless on the mat with the man’s tight hold on his wrist and his leg straddled in a cruel lock, Eggsy was thoroughly smitten.

But that was something of months ago, back in the spring when they first entered their tentative relationship of employer-employee, friends-slash-are-we-really, and The Bodyguard: The Sequel as coined by Roxy. Now? Eggsy had learned to contain his attraction after several failed attempts of hinting Harry that he was amenable to the idea of them becoming life partners and the fathers of Eggsy’s unborn children. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Harry. 

“Like what?” said Eggsy. He suppressed an almost full body shudder under Harry’s scrutinising gaze.   

Harry chuckled, “Like I just took away your mug of hot chocolate and you want to throttle me in my sleep.” 

“I’m never one for sneak attack and you know that.” 

“That’s right, your stealth is abysmal and you prefer to confront your enemy head on. How could I forget.” Harry replied easily as he listened to a message on his earpiece. Then he relaxed marginally, “Ok, let’s go, Eggsy.” He stood up and offered Eggsy his hand.  

“Go where?” He was perfectly happy with them staying in this inn with Harry, praying for the first snow and to be snowed in for days, thank you very much. 

Harry smiled, “We’re going to buy ingredients at the shops and I’ll make you that hot chocolate beverage you like so much.” 

“Yes, Harry!” Eggsy’s immediate response was akin to lightning. 

 

 

What Eggsy didn’t know though, was the events caused by his answer. He didn’t know that after returning to the inn, Harry would make him the best and worst cup of hot chocolate ever, adding too much sugar and an unhealthy amount of marshmallows at the same time. Eggsy would never trade it for the world.

That they would sit by the fireplace and watch the first snow outside the windows. That Eggsy would accidentally smear a bit of his drink on his upper lip, and that Harry would use his thumb to wipe it away, bringing their seats ever so closer. 

That Eggsy would grin and say, “Thanks.” 

That Harry would blush and say, “You’re welcome.” 

That he would find the courage to lean in and ask for a kiss from the man sitting opposite him. 

That Harry would assent and that he would learn how soft and warm Harry’s lips were. 

That their first kiss would last for exactly twelve seconds. That it would feel too short, too fleeting, end too fast. And that it would feel like an eternity.     

"You have a tendency to surprise me," admitted Harry. 

"It's a mutual feeling then. Because I find myself constantly being surprised by you," teased Eggsy, his eyes glued to the moist sheen on Harry's lower lip. _I did that_ , he thought.

Harry would attempt a joke to diffuse the tension, “But I didn’t see any mistletoe.”

Eggsy’s palm would touch his friend’s cheek and he would say, “There was no need for one. Like a wise man once said, I do like to confront things head on.” 

“A _very_ wise man.”  

“The wisest.”  

This time, they would both lean in for the kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt I received on tumblr: “Oi! That’s my hot chocolate.” I just gave it the bodyguard + royalty au to spice things up a bit.
> 
> I edited this a bit and gave it two more lines. Perhaps I should add them to my original post (?).


	6. long live all the magic we made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were immortal, and yet they were not. 
> 
> The thing was, gods weren’t meant to fall in love, for the moment their heart found its true soulmate, it became flesh and blood, and therefore penetrable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter is from the song Long Live by Taylor Swift. 
> 
> We're heading into the fantasy realms here folks. This and the next chapter are two parts of a prompt fill I wrote and posted on tumblr. The prompt was: "If you throw that snowball you’re declaring war.” 
> 
> Basically this is how I interpret a snowball fight.

Once upon a time, there were four of them. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter. 

They didn’t have names to call themselves for the first few thousand years, however, until winter made himself some human friends and started to demand being called Harry. So the other three did. Then came Merlin, because autumn loved legends of the kingdoms from far far away, and the tales of brave kings and wise queens. 

Summer insisted on James instead of Jim,  _it just_ sounds _better_ , he said. Spring never did tell them why he chose Lee, and as an unspoken rule, they respected his wish. The secret, it turned out, was never meant to be revealed, as he passed away not long after, choosing to use his entire life force to help his pregnant wife give birth to their first and only son. 

They were immortal, and yet they were not. The thing was, gods weren’t meant to fall in love, for the moment their heart found its true soulmate, it became flesh and blood, and therefore penetrable. Lee had managed to retain his magic because his feelings were returned, and the vivacious, bursting power of spring was now coursing through the veins of his heir: Gary Unwin.

 

 

They held four meetings annually, each lasted a full day, to celebrate the change of seasons as well as the exchanging of keys. One key to the portal between worlds, the other a duplicate in the very rarely case of emergency. The ceremony was traditionally formal yet brief, often followed by a feast and dancing, and of old friends’ catching up, which never stopped til midnight. 

It was also Eggsy’s first day at the job, and he was running late.  

His mum had wanted him to look presentable in front of his colleagues, so she spent hours fussing over his hair and outfit while her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, “My son is beautiful, and a proper grown up now. I can’t believe I’d ever see the day.”

“Your son is very honoured and extremely embarrassed.” He skilfully dodged her third attempt at smoothing down his hair, Eggsy  _was_  twenty-six after all, not ten. “If I don’t go now I will be late. Love you, Mum.” He said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

Eggsy left his house in the meadow full of nervous energy and his heart beating a mile an hour. He could do this, he was trained for the job ever since he was a child: Merlin had shown him the ropes, the obstacles, and how to overcome them, the lessons he gave were strict but Eggsy passed all the tests with flying colours. He’d make his parents proud, he was sure of it. 

“Your father would be ashamed of you, Gary,” said Arthur the moment Eggsy pushed open the heavy doors to the grand meeting room. 

“Wha-” he breathed, utterly confused. 

“Tardiness has always been a human trait. You’re four minutes late! That would go onto your performance evaluation, young man.” 

“That’s racist,” said the girl sitting on James’s seat. She had blond hair and wore it in a neat pony tail, secured by wiry vines and adorned with green leaves, but like Eggsy, there was no crown on her head.

“That’s the truth!” bellowed Arthur, and that was that. In a way, he  _was_  their boss, the Watcher, as most would call him. His missions were to observe and report to the higher-ups, and from time to time, to intercept if necessary.

“That’s meaningless and unnecessary. An overall useless statement as there never was a set time for this kind of meeting,” a voice behind Eggsy said, his words were sharp yet his tone playful and wry. All eyes immediately set on the general direction of Eggsy, and he too spun around to see who the newcomer was. 

“Said someone who was late. I see you’re setting a bad example for the young ones again, Harry,” spat Arthur.        

  _Harry_ was standing not five steps behind Eggsy, his left shoulder resting on the wooden door, two glasses of what looked like hot tea in his gloved hands. The god was impossibly tall and gorgeous, his hair pushed back to accommodate the ice crown and its blue jewels. He was, in all honesty, every single summer dream of Eggsy personified.

He noticed Eggsy gawping, of course he did, and surreptitiously winked at him as he entered the room. 

“Here. Drink this,” he said as he calmly offered Eggsy the glass in his right hand, “it’ll help. I promise.” 

Eggsy took a whiff of it and recognised that it was chamomile tea, the same one his mother always made whenever he was anxious. In his brain, alarms went off like there was a fire in a village. 

Arthur proceeded to tear down Harry and made snide remarks toward Eggsy as they went to sit at the only two vacant seats. But Eggsy could neither hear nor remember a thing as Harry, the god of winter, was sitting on his right, sipping at his own tea as if he was an audience and not the main attraction of the day.

Eggsy’s grip on the glass tightened. 

 _I’m so screwed_ , said his brain.

 _I’m in love_ , sighed his heart.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The structure I plan for this fic is that we have one chapter of the canon Hartwin as married spy husbands and then two chapters of them in an alternate universe where, unsurprisingly, they always end up together. However, there's a tiny little twist that might be a bit insane. I do hope it works out in the end? 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at darcyfirth where I habitually talk about Hartwin and B99.


	7. how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I thought I was being obvious," Harry held a strawberry between his fingers, Eggsy hated strawberries. 
> 
> "Transparent," replied Eggsy, as he fearlessly ducked his head and bit a huge portion of it. The things one does for love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter is from the song Turning Page by Sleeping At Last. Gettin' real meta here.

"They are gods now?" asked Eggsy as he carefully spread butter with a knife on his toast. After seeing that it had an even distribution, he surreptitiously placed it on Harry's plate of fruits. He had a hard time coaxing food into his husband sometimes, the man's diet was strict and left no holes for dairy or red meat, because God forbid a middle-aged man having love handles.

"They are. Don't dismiss the idea that gods exist," said Harry, turning to a new page on The Sun. The headline read "Elton John? Elton Gone."      

This was weeks after the first time Harry started telling him stories about impossible people living in impossible worlds. Admittedly, they were more interesting than the books Eggsy was forced to read in school, or it could be because how Harry was telling them, like he had read the tales from long ago and only now began to remember tiny details again. Some nights, not every night, when Harry just had a glass of his favourite brandy, and Eggsy had his hair played and petted in the process, Eggsy would ask if Harry was amenable to share more. His husband was reluctant at first, but soon acquiesced. 

Eggsy didn't share their little uncommon ritual with Roxy or Merlin, though. He hoped he wasn't selfish in doing so, it was rare that he got to keep something special to himself, and it was his and Harry's secret. _Theirs_. He liked the thought of that. 

Picking up a piece of bacon, he bit off half of it then gave the other to a waiting, tail-waggling JB, "No, I'm not. I was just surprised. How many universes, do you think, have actual Gods walking among humans?" 

"I imagine plenty. It's a matter of perspective, I believe. For instance, compared to other animals, we are very nearly an immortal, power-wielding race." As a habit, Harry's left hand picked up a cherry, but came in contact with the toast instead, he did not comment, but Eggsy was convinced he saw a smile hidden behind the slice of bread as Harry chew. 

"That's quite- something." 

"It is. Something." 

"Now back to where you were saying about the God of spring. He was terrified that he found himself being in love with the God of winter, right? Does that mean he became human?" he snapped his fingers, it made a loud click, "Just like that? Poof? All of his power gone, he became weak and easily defeated? Isn't that a tragedy?" 

"Well, if you had paid more attention. You'd know that a requited love allows the Gods to keep their ability. Whatever it is. I suppose that include being inhumanly strong and other crafty, elemental magic." 

"But they'd still die if their heart was pierced by something sharp?" 

"That's correct." 

"Jesus! An unrequited love and mortality. That's fucking sad, if you asked me." 

"Very human. Don't you think?" Harry grinned, right palm supporting his chin now, the newspaper forgotten on their dining table. 

Eggsy laughed, he knew what Harry was referring to, at least, but it was quite a compliment, "Did you just say I'm a god-who-turned-into-human because I fell for you?" 

"I thought I was being obvious," Harry held a strawberry between his fingers, Eggsy hated strawberries. 

"Transparent," replied Eggsy, as he fearlessly ducked his head and bit a huge portion of it. The things one does for love. 

"Now, would you like to know the rest of this tragedy?" Harry curled his lips at the sight of red juice sliding down his hand. He brought it up to give it a little lick. 

Sour. 

"Please. With cherry on top?" 

So Harry continued to recount the story of Gods that probably happened in a different timeline, and plausibly, in an entirely real universe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had ramen and mango for breakfast, so I envy their toast and fruits a great deal. 
> 
> Drop by tumblr (darcyfirth) for a visit and see how my brain works? It's just a basketful of puns and food posts.


	8. you make my heart ascend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you throw that snowball you’re declaring war.”
> 
> “This is not war. This is us conquering you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter is from the song Levitate by Imagine Dragons.

“You’re not doing it right, Harry!” laughed Eggsy as he came over and checked on his friend’s progress. 

Harry huffed, his soft hair moved slightly from his strong breath, it somehow served to make him look boyish and even more endearing. It made Eggsy fell in love with him a little bit. If a little bit was a drop in the ocean for his so-called crush on the god. 

“I’m doing exactly what you did. I rolled the base, then the top. The snow just won’t hold!” Harry gestured at his poor imitation of a snowman.

A winter god, betrayed by his own creation. They would talk about this for years. 

“Here, lemme show you,” Eggsy said as gently as possible,  _do not alarm the creature_ , he thought, “you just need a bit of this,” he motioned with his hand to draw out a spell, then gave it a little flick, “the key is in the twist of the wrist. See? All fixed and lookin’ perfect.” 

“Show me that again? I think that’s where I was wrong.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows like an eager student ready to learn at his first day of school. Eggsy hid a small smile, stepping closer to hold Harry’s hand and repeated what he just did. The warmth between them intensified and Eggsy was glad he could blame it on the cold for the slow spreading of blush on his cheeks. 

 _This is it, this is when I tell him_ , he thought.  

A splash of ice cold water hit Harry’s head. They both turned around to see Merlin and Roxy smirking at them, Roxy’s hands still in the middle of performing the spell. Eggsy was too flabbergasted to see the non-verbal exchange going on between Merlin and Harry. 

_You should try acting, Mr. I-forgot-this-spell-that-I-could-do-in-my-sleep._

_You should try to fuck off._

Already Roxy was hovering a sizeable snowball in the air, the gleam in her eye spoke of challenge and blood-thirst. 

“If you throw that snowball you’re declaring war,” announced Eggsy, whose fingers were busy dancing the intricate lines of making at least six snowballs.  

Roxy's lips curled into a wicked smirk, “This is not war. This is us conquering  _you_.” 

And that was how it started. 

In the first brief ten seconds, at least twenty spells were used and a plethora of snow found itself the art of flying. It was a bloodbath condensed right outside a small cottage. 

Speed was essential in winning the war, as canon balls flew relentlessly from one side to another, hitting the gods squarely on the face and chest and leg. Eggsy’s aim was true so he was in charge of firing, whereas Harry stood behind him to gather the snow, theirs was an efficient team. 

It went on and on until Merlin had had enough and gave Roxy a sign. She nodded  _finally_ and summoned her power to create the largest snowball ever in the history of snowball fight. It grew rapidly to towering height and filled Eggsy with a vague sense of  _do not fuck with Rox_ ,  _full stop_.

As soon as their opponents screamed a command that would motion the monstrous thing forward, Harry grabbed Eggsy’s wrist and  _sprinted_.

They ran until they were out of sight and created a significant distance where Harry could turn back to hit the rolling snowball with a spell that smashed it into millions of pieces. The attempt lost him his balance and they both fell down in a tangled mess of limbs. There were cursing and yelling and eventually laughter. 

“Oh my god, did you see that? Roxy went bananas,” Eggsy exclaimed from his place on top of Harry. 

“She is truly a force to be reckoned with.” Harry couldn’t help but agree, his hands were stuck between them both, but he didn’t complain. 

“And Merlin was crazy to start this fight to begin with,” he buried his giggles in Harry’s chest, hearing a low vibration coming from two layers of winter clothes. 

 _Harry Hart is currently beneath me. My hands are clutching his sides and his legs are around me,_ Eggsy bit his lips to prevent a coming shriek _._

“You are quite amazing yourself. I haven’t seen anyone with that tremendous speed in a thousand years.” 

“Who was the first one?” asked Eggsy.     

“Me.” 

Eggsy guffawed, “You are honestly the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. I could just kiss you right now.” 

_Shit._

“Do.” 

_Shit shit shit._

What.

“What?” 

“Kiss me. Didn’t you say?”       

“Did that hit to your head give you a concussion?”  

“Are you planning to go back on your words? Or are you afraid of the fact that being romantically entangled with me would strip you off of your immortality- ”

It all happened in a flurry of limbs, one moment he was staring at Harry’s mouth, the next his hands found themselves grabbing Harry’s head and soon enough, he was kissing the god. 

Eggsy was fighting back his fear of admission: months of being terrified that the truth would be said out loud. At this moment, he was overjoyed to discover Harry also felt the same way about him. He was furious and happy and warm and felt a bit like crying. 

He kissed and bit and licked and kissed a bit more. Then, he drew back and looked at Harry dead in the eye. 

“I don’t think you know, but my heart became penetrable the day I met you.”    

Stunned silence followed as Harry was reduced to immobility. 

Then he broke into a grin and said, “Those are the best words I’ve ever heard in the last three thousand years.” 

“But you are only three thousand and six.” Eggsy sat up. 

“Exactly.” Harry said as he pulled Eggsy down for another kiss. 

And there were many after that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't be Christmas or winter without a good snowball fight. Fact: I've never seen snow in real life, which explains how this is entirely fictional. 
> 
> If my depiction of snow doesn't ring true, that's why.
> 
> I do hope you guys are enjoying the journey so far, I meant for it to be as fluffy as possible in the first half.


	9. i was made to keep your body warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I didn’t notice,” sighed Harry. 
> 
> “We can both blame you for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter is from the song Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. 
> 
> Once upon a time I made [this post](http://darcyfirth.tumblr.com/post/166522649527/what-if-eggsy-is-a-farmboy-who-regularly-delivers) and now I have to pay for my sins.

“Step away from the cookies,” the unexpected words of warning startled Eggsy into nearly dropping a piece of perfectly baked chocolate chip cookie on the floor. He raised his hands up to signal his surrender and took two hasty steps back from the counter, a sheepish smile on his face. It was quite early in the morning, the sign on the door of the bakery still said closed, but Eggsy wasn’t a customer.

“Sorry, Mr Hart. Couldn’t help myself there. They smelled divine. Is this your new recipe?” he said conversationally. Mr Hart still had his white apron and beige mittens on when he appeared at the kitchen door, Egssy noted, and he had a tray of fresh gingerbreads carefully balanced on his hands. They all wore red icing as bowties and there were tiny white dots as buttons on where their shirts would be.

“Yes, and since it’s new, I’m not entirely sure it’s fit for mass consumption yet. They might taste like rotten eggs for all I know.” The baker made his way to behind the glass display and placed the batch next to two dozen tarts.

“Oh, have some confidence in yourself, would you? Everyone in this town adores your pastries, even Roxy who has never had a sweet tooth said she wanted to marry you the first time she tried one of your cheesecakes,” said Eggsy with pride. “Granted. Ours is not a big town, but there are three standing pastry shops and yours is the one people flock to.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Eggsy knew he should have said them much earlier, perhaps it was the way a rosy bloom spread itself across Harry’s pale cheeks and ears, or how he averted his eyes and attempted a cough to hide his pleased grin. They have known each other for half a year now, and Eggsy found that he never grew tire of the minuscule change in the man’s facial expressions. He had catalogued and stored at least twelve different sounds Harry made when he laughed, three general responses when being teased, and hundreds of sarcastic eye rolls.

Eggsy realised he was staring when the silence had become palpable and shook himself out of his day-dreaming. Mr Hart didn’t seem to mind Eggsy’s dawdling though, as he was wrapping up cookies and tying them in neat red ribbons.

With enormous regret that he hoped had not leak into his voice, he said, “I got your eggs in the storage room. That’d be my last delivery this month, we don’t open again after Christmas.” He fought back _and I won’t see you for another full week_ with his entire being and the unnecessary grasp for dignity.

“Oh,” Harry paused in the middle of counting the bags and looked up, “does that mean-”

“Come to our farm for the dinner?” Eggsy said in a rush, at the same time Harry finishes his, “you would go to London?”

“London?”

“Dinner?”

Eggsy lifted a hand, they should really take turns, and his heart should really stop beating so hard, he fancied it would beat its way out of his ribcage and run joyfully to nestle itself in Harry’s shirt pocket. “Why would I go to London?”

“Your girlfriend? Miss Morton? I’ve heard from Michelle that she lives in the city.” Mr Hart’s eyes didn’t meet his when he said this.

“What girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend. Yes, she is a girl, and my friend. But Roxy’s got a girlfriend of her own. Her name’s Amelia.”

“Amelia?” asked Harry, incredulous.

“Yeah. They’ve been dating for two years. I invited them to stay at our farm this year, you know, show ‘em around and stuff.”

“Oh, I see,” breathed Harry, “I do apologise for assuming. I just thought, well, you are rather fond of her, it was only logical.”

Not the way I’m fond of you.

“So,” Eggsy started, “now that’s been cleared up. Would you come? to our dinner? We have one every year, it’s just my Mum and Daisy and me, and this year with Rox and Amelia, too. Mum says you are new to the town and worries that you’d be spending it all by yourself.” Did I just imply he has no one to be with? Wake up, brain.

He hurriedly added, “Of course, it’s fine if you can’t. Anyway, the more the merrier, you know?”

“I’d love to,” smiled Harry, and the sun came out twice that morning.

“Sure?” Air had made its decision to desert Eggsy’s lungs.

“It’d be my honour.”

“Brilliant,” Eggsy said and pulled out an invoice, “can you sign this? I’ve got three other places to go to.”

Before he left, Eggsy gave Harry the time and address of his farm, the man nodded and promised he would call prior to arriving.

That morning, Eggsy blasted Jingle Bells at full volume all the way to Antonio’s restaurant.

 

“Is he here yet?” asked Roxy from the couch. She was concerned, understandably, because Eggsy had been standing, rather patiently, at the window looking out the road in front of his house for twenty minutes. It was getting rather disconcerting, this crush of his.

“No,” sighed Eggsy.

“Come here, muffin,” she beckoned him to sit next to her. The seat was warm as Amelia just left it to go for a nap in their bedroom, she was a lightweight and a glass of bourbon didn’t help.

Obediently, he plopped down on the cushion, back hunched and facing the door.

“Do you think he changed his mind at the last minute?” said Eggsy.

“Why would he?”

“Because- I mean- Why would he come?”

“You invited him, for starters. And Harry is a man of honour, like you always said in every of our Skype session.”

“He is,” muttered Eggsy, his right cheek smashed in the firm press of the couch, “and so, so very dreamy.”

“Extremely dreamy,” agreed Roxy. She wasn’t lying, she had seen a photo of Mr Baker that Eggsy sent her in their chat room. Fuck, was her only reply to it.

“I bet he has pretty lady friends who hold posh parties that he’d rather attend in the city.”

“Does he?”

“I don’t know. It’s a working hypothesis.”

“Based on wild guesses and deeply pessimistic analysis.” Roxy took a sip of her wine, no amount of alcohol could get her through this conversation, but she could try. At that moment, something outside caught her attention and blessedly enough, she stayed calm about it.

“Look,” Roxy stood up and dragged Eggsy along with her, “I think you should give up.”

Eggsy frowned, “Give what up? I don’t follow-”

“Give. Up. On. Harry. Hart!” The clear punctuation and its sharp delivery was made all the more dramatic by her death grip on his shoulders. JB was sleeping in the next room and Roxy believed even that would wake the pug up.

“You are not making any sense, Roxy.” He was in denial, but his voice was raising as well.

“Oh? Am I the one being idiotic? Am I the one who pines after this man for half a year and not make any move? Am I the one who meticulously chooses the best, shiniest eggs for him?” Her theatre club teacher would be so proud of such beautiful enunciation.

“Face it Eggsy! You’re in love with him! And he doesn’t return your feelings, that’s why you’ve been mopping around all week!” Eggsy would kill her if he was telepathic and had eyes on the back of his head.

“Yeah! Fine. I admit. I am in love with Harry! But I, I just can’t- It’s not that easy, Rox. And I know you mean well, I just-”

Then came the tentative sound of knocking on the wooden door.

The pair inside the house froze, well, one of them was acting quite convincingly frozen.

“You should get that,” said Roxy as she smoothly picked up her opened book on the coffee table and her dear glass of wine. Eggsy shot her a confused look, she smiled tightly at him and kissed his cheeks, “I’m sorry. And good luck.” Then, she retreated to her room upstairs.

The knocking came again, this time less shy and more insistent.

Eggsy rushed to unlatch the door and braved the harsh breeze for his trouble.

“Hello, Eggsy,” said Harry in a dark coat, snowflakes clinging on his hair and shoulders and adorned his nose and cheeks a bright pink.

“Hi, Harry,” said Eggsy, his fingers still clutched the door handle. Apparently, all of his faculties hadn’t come back online yet, they tended to take leave every time he was in close proximity with Mr Hart.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I lost my way a bit and tried to call. But you didn’t answer,” Harry explained.

“Oh, God, erm,” Eggsy pulled out the phone in his pocket, the darn thing had run out of battery hours ago and he was too preoccupied with the thought of Harry coming over to notice. “It’s all my fault, here, come in. It’s got to be freezing out there.”

He stepped aside to take Harry’s coat, it smelled of vanilla and coffee and a hint of cinnamon, Eggsy ruefully put it on the coat rack. At this moment, he suddenly remembered.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“How long did you wait to knock?”

“Well, I just got here.” The man was fibbing, months of observation and this was what it got him, he could tell immediately when Harry wasn’t telling the truth. His eyes shifted slightly, once, to the right, and back again.

“Really?” whispered Eggsy, he couldn’t look straight at Harry now. Not when he knew rejection was coming and heartbreak was waving at him at the next stop.

“To be honest? Long enough.” _To hear everything_ was unsaid.

Eggsy sucked in a lungful of air, steady, heart. He opened his mouth.

“You don’t have to go to all this trouble, you know,” but Harry beat him to it.

“Oh.” So Harry planned to let him down easy, ever the gentleman.

“I mean, you don’t have to keep hiding it,” he continued, “because the feeling is mutual, Eggsy.”

Ten thousand bells rang in Eggsy’s head. He heard none of them.

“For the past months, I thought, well, assumed that you had a girlfriend and accepted the fact. Quite ready to do so, if I might add, since I’m not used to affection or the expressing part of it. Besides, I’m twice your age and just a baker in a small town.”

“Harry, shut up.” He had to stop the man’s ranting, despite how endearing and adorable he found it to be.

“What?”

“Just. Shut up.” Eggsy growled and quickly marched toward him, afraid Harry might run away, afraid he would miss this chance.

He caught Harry in an embrace and felt him tensed slightly, like a prey would to being in the mercy of a predator.

“I like you, Harry. A lot. Too much to bear sometimes, I think. But I had to get used to it, to breathe better,” whispered Eggsy.

The rigid lines of Harry’s shoulders relaxed and a hand slid up to cup Eggsy’s neck.

“Is it better now?”

“No. Still feel a bit like fainting.”

“Should I let go? Would that help?”

“No. Then I’d just faint. You’re holding me up, that’s good.” Somehow, his arms managed to tighten the hold on Harry’s waist.

“How long have you.” Felt this way. Liked me. Wanted to tell me this. Hidden this from me.

“When you called me back to give me the banana bread.” An answer to all of Harry's questions.

“That was.” Our first meeting.

“Yes.”

Harry’s hand was making slow circles on Eggsy’s back now. They made an odd picture.

“And I didn’t notice,” sighed Harry.

“We can both blame you for that.”

Harry laughed, and Eggsy immediately filed it away as something new, he had never heard this before.

Slowly, he pulled back so that their faces were comfortably apart, so he could see Harry’s brown eyes and his dimples, so that his heart wasn’t too far from Harry’s.

“I brought your favourite tart,” said Harry out of nowhere. And that, frankly, was it.

Eggsy grabbed the back of Harry’s skull, gently, as if to coax him into the kiss, a wasted effort, for he went willingly. Their lips met and instantly, Eggsy vowed to record as many detail as the capacity of his memory could possibly allow. Every brush of the skin, every groan and gasp, and the singular sensation of being connected with Harry for the first time in six months. He parted his lips eagerly when he felt the tip of Harry’s tongue asking for entrance. His hands had inexplicably found themselves around Harry’s neck and with the press of his hips, their bodies had no gaps from sternum to knees.

His lungs protested but he didn’t care. He was careful, placing a trail of kisses along Harry’s jaw, his neck, and by the way Harry gasped and tipped his head back, he knew the gentle bite at the trapezius was a magnificent decision. After he had sucked at Harry’s collarbone a small bruise, he found his way back to the man’s lips and they both sighed into the kiss.

It was hot and wet and too much and too little all at once.

An undetermined amount of time passed, once Eggsy had given Harry’s cheek a lingering kiss, they finally broke apart, both a tad debauched and breathless. It was a good look on Harry, Eggsy thought, the man should wear it more often, preferably in a bedroom with Eggsy in it.

“So,” started Eggsy.

“So,” replied Harry.

“Welcome to our house, Mr Hart. Are you ready for dinner?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” said Harry as he looked Eggsy straight in the eye.

“Because I’m,” he closed the distance Eggsy had tormented himself so hard to create, but they were a mere two inches apart when Harry’s voice dropped an octave and said, “positively famished.” And initiated their second kiss that night.

Dinner would have to wait, it seemed, and Eggsy was perfectly fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D 
> 
> I struggled a bit to end this, it's super hard to find the appropriate point to yell stop, you can't just drag each other to the bedroom before dinner, it's uncouth!
> 
> the-art-in-trying on tumblr sketched an amazing winter god Harry for the previous chapters which you can find [here](http://darcyfirth.tumblr.com/post/168629615112/the-art-in-trying-some-quick-rough-sketches-of).


	10. someone holds me safe and warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What was that for?” asked Harry, the man didn’t bother to hide the arousal in his voice.
> 
> “Popcorn. I wanted to taste some,” lied Eggsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter is from the song Once upon a December in the movie Anastasia. 
> 
> Happy holidays!

It was several hours before midnight, Eggsy checked after a quick look at their grandfather clock, the one that Harry hated but always forgot to throw out because they were constantly on their  _business trips_  around the world.

Outside, their snow-covered garden glowed with the Christmas decorations and fairy lights Eggsy had helped Harry put on the previous week.

From his place on the couch, legs comfortably perched on the armrest and back supported by Eggsy’s entire body, Harry shifted the lavender blanket to cover his lap and said, “Are you bored?”

“From what?” Eggsy idly observed how the fireplace light danced on the curves of his husband’s hair and profile, the faint glow softening Harry’s sharp features immeasurably.

“Sitting here and having to watch Anastasia with your boss-slash-lived-in-housemate,” said Harry as he ate a handful of popcorn from the bowl on his stomach.      

In an unforeseen gesture driven entirely by his overwhelming fondness for the man, Eggsy bent his upper body and closed Harry’s mouth with his. He was young, Eggsy thought, he could afford to sit at an awkward angle for a while. 

A while turned out to be something like five minutes.

It was partially Harry and his hand’s fault for coming up to rest on his husband’s neck so that he could draw Eggsy in, pressing their sides together, and despite the barrier of clothes, Eggsy could feel Harry’s body heat slowly rose.

Harry smiled that smile of his, and Eggsy’s vision blurred as he gladly accepted his defeat.

Their lips kept meeting and separated, sometimes short and soft, other times lingering and tinged with a sea of longing. Mingled breaths and brushes of skin. The smell of Harry’s cologne and Eggsy’s hot chocolate coalesced.

His hands in Harry’s hair, under his shirt, around his narrow waist, leaving a trace of warmth and unabashed desire.

Galaxies could collide and Eggsy wouldn’t give it a single thought.

Slowly, he licked Harry’s bottom lip and gave it a small bite.

Even when Eggsy was seeking comfort for his now burdened back on the couch, his eyes would not leave Harry’s face. A hard task, it seemed, for everywhere he looked, he found love and affection and adoration. He wanted to look away, he wanted to never close his eyes.

“What was that for?” asked Harry, the man didn’t bother to hide the arousal in his voice.

“Popcorn. I wanted to taste some,” lied Eggsy.

Because they had been married for two years, and because he knew who Eggsy was, Harry played along, “Any good?”

Licking his lips, he faked being deep in thoughts, “A tad sweet. What flavour is it?”

“Cheddar cheese and caramel.” Harry put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, it didn’t fall on the carpet during or after their snog, a blessing he suspected would not come again.

“I thought you hated cheddar cheese?” Eggsy pulled the discarded blanket back on to cover his legs.

“I do. With a passion,” the corner of his lips quirk, “but you like it.”

Puzzled, Eggsy asked, “But I said I was full after that mug of chocolate, how would you- Oh.” It dawned on him that Harry didn’t work as a spy for twenty and some years for nothing.  

“Am I that predictable? Have I failed in being a surprise to you now?” He lamented, his hand theatrically came up to cover his face, there was a crocodile tear coming.

“No. It’s actually the opposite. In fact, I find myself being surprised by you every day,” Harry said as he touched Eggsy’s forehead with his, “I guess I’m just an expert in reading the Unwins.”

Eggsy’s hands dropped for him to stare at Harry’s brown eyes, kissing him on the eyelids and nose and cheeks would be ideal right now, but, “I hope you’re not looking forward to graduating?”

“They say learning is something you spend your entire life doing. And I’ve always been a devoted scholar, I’m afraid.” If it was possible, Eggsy would bind his and Harry’s souls together, so that they would keep meeting each other in every future reincarnation. An alarming thought, he realised, but fighting it would be futile.

“You know, when you told me the stories of soulmates,” he lowered his eyes to look at their entwined fingers, “it came to me that in some universes, what if you didn’t find me? What if you were just a stranger that I would walk past on the streets? I suddenly pity the Gary Unwin that misses his Harry Hart.”

He heard Harry inhale and exhale, twice, before saying, “What if I kept finding you but you didn’t choose me? Because I assure you, Eggsy, that it’d be hopelessly moronic of me to disregard you.”

“Then I’d choose you, Harry. I chose, choose, and will always choose to be with you.”

“Good,” he pressed his lips on the top of Eggsy’s head, “now we can get back to watching this boring movie that I like so much.” He shuffled his legs, rearranging them to a suitable position, and when he was satisfied, looked up to Eggsy and smiled.

“It’s not boring,” huffed Eggsy.

“Are you sure?”

“If it’s something you like, then it must be the most attractive, appealing, and captivating thing in the world.”

“Pride is a deadly sin, didn't you know?” laughed Harry.

His scrunched up nose, the swaying curls on his forehead, his thin lips, the lines on his face, the dimples that appeared whenever he was happy. Eggsy meticulously memorised each one.

“Yeah,” he nodded. On the screen, the song Once upon a December was playing, Anastasia was remembering her past as a princess.

In their living room, Eggsy smiled sheepishly and touched Harry’s cheeks, “I’m afraid you’ll have to bear with me for the rest of your life.”

Leaning on Eggsy’s palm with close-lidded eyes, Harry promised, “It’d be my privilege.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to update before Christmas but I had good rest so here ya go. Next chapter would be another AU. Keep an eye out for that one.
> 
> As always, in the they're married canon, there are scattered hints for my grand, evil scheme.


	11. you are the first and the last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! 
> 
> A sequel for the mall elf!Harry fic I wrote almost a year ago during the holiday season.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my prompt fill for the follower present/fic giveaway in celebration of my tumblr followers milestone and the upcoming Christmas/holidays. 
> 
> It is the sequel to chapter 2 so you might need to read that first for things to make sense.

Eggsy was in the middle of texting on his phone when he felt a light tugging at the tail of his trench coat, he looked down and saw his little sister’s fingers gripping on the soft fabric. 

“What is it, Daisy?” asked Eggsy, he was always ready to pay for anything she had her eye on now that he could afford to do it, within reason, of course. Their family’s situation had changed drastically since last Christmas, and Eggsy was quite thankful that it was for the better. 

“Why isn’t our Harry there anymore?” Daisy said and pointed at the centre of the shopping mall, where a man hired to dress in red and pretended to be Santa Claus would usually sit at this time of the year. 

The Harry she was talking about had never dressed as Santa, however, except for one fateful day when a mission required him to take on the guise of a really, really tall elf. 

One whom Eggsy had met and liked very, very much, and who also liked Eggsy back just the right way he truly deserved. 

“Harry isn’t Santa, dear,” Eggsy said kindly, patting her hair gently so as to avoid her getting upset. But Daisy only did the opposite and grinned widely at him. 

She said, not too loudly, but enough to let a few late Christmas shoppers around them hear clearly, “Yes, I know, Eggsy. Harry is your boyfriend and is also, incidentally,” she pronounced with precision, “a part-time elf.” 

“My question is,” she continued, uncaring of amused looks strangers were throwing at them, “why isn’t he an elf now? Isn’t he supposed to be working?” 

Of all the prepared answers he and Harry had worked on to counter Daisy’s questions, this wasn’t one which they had prepared for, and it wasn’t Eggsy’s fault either, given that whenever this topic came up, Harry would tease him verbally and Eggsy could only manage to return Harry’s dreadful, _dreadful_ winks with physical attacks. Though never those of the unkind sort. 

“He, uh, he got promoted!” Eggsy exclaimed, brilliant idea, he thought. 

“To what?” 

“To a, uhm, a full-time elf! Yes, that’s the one. Since he is working full-time now, he no longer has to stand there and wait by Santa, he’s got an elf-office and everything. Paperwork, sorting out the nice and naughty kids for Santa, you know, instead of wrapping presents.”

“Oh!” Daisy clapped her hands, eyes alight with excitement and happiness. “I’m so glad he’s not fired.” 

Eggsy raised his eyebrow, asked, “Why’d you think Harry was sacked? I mean, fired.” 

Daisy explained, shrugging her narrow wool-clad shoulders as if she was a patient teacher trying to get an obvious point through, “I see him coming to our house and play princess tea party with me all the time or you would be over at his house on days he was meant to be working. And beside that, Harry and you would go only your adult dates which you refused to let me tag along.

“Where’d he find the time to work?” She concluded, a tiny bit out of breath since it was her first time talking for so long. 

Eggsy was simultaneously proud of her observant nature and seemingly scared at how much his sister had grown. He quickly diverted her attention by changing the subject to the rainbow unicorns and the way those cat ears on display would look on their Harry. 

Inside his ears, Harry’s voice came through, “And when do you think you’ll tell me about my elf-promotion, Eggsy?” 

Eggsy visibly blushed at the hint of teasing when his boyfriend said his name, but quickly typed back on his glasses with his eyes: 

_Shut up. Or I’ll buy the cat ears._

“Oh? And here I thought you preferred by pointy elf ones?” 

Eggsy’s thought before completely switched off his earpieces was: _  
_

_Dear God, please let this be the last weird one I fall for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone who's still following this fic :'D 
> 
> An ending to all the AUs in this fic is coming soon.


End file.
